


Just Might Find 7

by helens78, Telesilla



Series: Just Might Find [10]
Category: Equilibrium (2002) RPF
Genre: BDSM, Dom/sub, M/M, Massage, Rimming, The Establishment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-11-10
Updated: 2005-11-10
Packaged: 2017-10-05 18:04:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helens78/pseuds/helens78, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telesilla/pseuds/Telesilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bill's early morning workout makes Sean more than a little crazy.  And Sean ends up making a mistake...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Might Find 7

Bill's finished his coffee and the paper after sharing a more substantial breakfast than yesterday's muffins with Sean. He's in a fantastic mood; there might be a better way to wake up than having someone give you a skillful, reverential blow job, but in 48 years, he's never found it. He puts the paper down and looks at Sean, who's putting the last of the breakfast dishes on the cart for the maid to take away. "Ready to head to the gym, boy?"

"Yes, sir," Sean says. Granted, he's not as fond of working out as he is of, well, just about anything else, but if Bill wants to go to the gym -- and more importantly, wants _Sean_ to go to the gym --Sean's more than happy to go. Actually, the idea makes him grin a little; this whole thing with Bill started while Sean was at the pool with doms and their subs working out alongside him. There's some kind of poetic irony about _being_ one of those subs on a workout with his dom now.

And the week's been good so far. The first day was fantastic. Apart from breakfast, Sean got fucked -- finally, _finally_ got fucked -- after spending a good chunk of the evening being teased out of his mind. Wrists cuffed to thighs and ankles held apart by a spreader bar and Sean's getting to a point where it doesn't surprise him a bit that he can beg the way he does. Bill's damned good at drawing it out of him.

This morning it was a blowjob and breakfast, which Sean took on his knees -- some of it handfed and some of it eaten off a plate on the floor -- and it really doesn't matter that Sean hasn't gotten to come yet today. That's not what he's here for. Well, it's not what he's here for unless Bill says it is, and even the ache feels good to him when he's in headspace. He's aching _for someone_, and damn if that isn't a wonderful feeling.

"My bag's in the closet," Bill says, standing and stretching. Sean looks good fetching and carrying -- hell, Sean looks good doing just about anything, and Bill's damn glad to have him here. Taking up the end of the leash when Sean joins him with the bag, Bill pulls Sean close and leans in to bite Sean's neck hard. Sean's got other marks, teeth marks, hand and finger marks, bruises and Bill nods a little. The marks will do, for now.

Sean just about purrs getting another mark from Bill. He's not sure he could ever get tired of that, sudden warm claiming teeth on his skin, and he's not at any risk of having too _few_ marks this week. He grins. "What sort of workout does sir like?" Sean asks. For all that he might dislike exercise himself, he's not going to object to watching Bill lift weights, jog, or otherwise get sweaty.

"If it's Monday, it must be weights," Bill says with a grin as he leads Sean out of the room. "I've got a rotation that I go through. I'm kind of fanatical about it; I don't expect the same dedication from my boys. When I've got a long term contract, my time in the gym is usually their time off."

The work certainly pays off; Bill looks damned good and Sean's glad he's the beneficiary of all that work right at the moment. "I'm definitely not fanatical about it," Sean says, a little bit apologetically. "But there's something to be said for getting ordered to work out, sir. Helps with motivation." He grins.

"I've found that I have enough of an ego that trying to impress a boy helps me," Bill admits with a rueful smile. They step into the elevator and he crowds Sean against one wall, reaching up to toy with one of Sean's nipple rings. "What is it about elevators? They're like an invitation to molest someone."

Sean grins. "Best use for a small space ever, sir," he agrees, squirming lightly at the way Bill's touching him. "Feels good, sir..."

"And here," Bill replies as they reach their floor, "you don't have to worry about what happens when the door opens." Still holding the leash, he leads Sean into the gym. At this time of the morning, the place is fairly empty and Bill heads for the free weights. "You ever spot anyone?" he asks Sean as he pulls his sweatshirt off.

"Yes, sir." Sean catches Bill's sweatshirt and folds it while Bill gets the weights ready, helping to get the plates into place as soon as the shirt's taken care of. He gets out of the way while Bill gets underneath the bar and lifts it up, then takes up a spot behind him so he'll be there if Bill actually needs any help.

And damn, it doesn't look like he needs help at all. The squats are perfect, all Bill's muscles in line, and he's in even better shape than Sean figured. _I don't think I'd want to try to get under that many weights._ Sean's not going to let himself get distracted while he's watching -- there's no way he wants to miss it if Bill does end up needing a spot -- but Bill's shoulders look damned good. Hell, his whole back looks lickable. _And imagine going all the way down his spine and..._

He moves out of the way as Bill finishes up his first set and puts the weights back down. _Yeah, so much for not getting distracted. Fuck, he's put together nicely._

Bill has moved into work out mode, where he's aware of Sean, but only tangentially; most of his concentration is on the work itself. He's always loved working out; there's something really good about pushing yourself and knowing you can meet the challenge. Plus it's oddly calming in a way.

He does pause between the squats and the bench pressing to smile at Sean. "Not bored yet, boy?" he asks, thinking of the ways he's made this process more interesting for boys in the past. It's a fine line, of course; you don't want your spotter to be too distracted.

"Not bored at all, sir," Sean says. In fact, he's not sure how he could possibly get bored watching Bill; Bill just looks so fucking edible right now, and it's getting better the longer he goes on. He's starting to sweat, and it's making his skin glow, and Sean's got all he can do to keep from fantasizing about licking that sweat up, rubbing his face against Bill's chest and smelling Bill all over his skin.

Reminding himself not to show off, Bill settles in to do the bench presses. He doesn't find anything odd about wanting to impress Sean; after all, Sean's been doing a damn good job of impressing Bill, so why not want to return the favor?

Once he's in the groove, though, his awareness of Sean fades into the background again, replaced by the importance of keeping his movements smooth and regular, and by the sheer demands of the workout.

Spotting for bench presses is a little more complicated when one's hard and trying not to call too much attention to that. Sean rolls his eyes at his dick -- _don't put his eye out_ \-- and the thought's enough to get him to calm down, focus on what he's needed for.

Bill's breathing hard and sweating freely by the time he's done. "Damn," he says as he finally sits up. "Feels great." He turns, and at this level, Sean's cock is right there. Reaching out, Bill gives it a couple of firm strokes. "I was going to shower and then do a few laps, but .... no, I have something better in mind."

"Yes, please, sir," Sean says, not that he's got any idea what Bill has in mind -- but with the way Bill's looking at him, he doesn't care. It'll be good no matter what it is.

Tugging hard on the leash, Bill all but drags Sean into the locker room. "Put the bag down," he growls and barely gives Sean time to obey before he's shoving Sean against the wall near a bank of lockers.

Sean's shoulderblades hit the wall and he lets out a harsh breath, grinning at Bill with a growl of his own held in check behind his teeth. _Fuck, yes._

Pushing in close, Bill grabs Sean's chin. "You want it, don't you, boy? You're fucking hot for it, aren't you?"

"Yes, sir, fucking want it _so_ much, any way you want me," Sean breathes, just barely keeping himself from leaning in and licking Bill's neck. "_Please_."

Placing his hands on either side of Sean's head, Bill presses in even closer, pushing Sean hard against the wall. Ducking his head just a little, he kisses Sean hard, pausing occasionally to bite at Sean's lips.

Sean's going to go out of his mind before the week's through. Bill feels so good, smells _fucking_ good, and Sean's trapped between the wall and Bill's body and can't imagine wanting to be anywhere else.

"You really fucking want it," Bill says, grinding up against Sean to make it obvious that Bill too is interested. One more kiss and then Bill pulls back. "Later," he says, hiding a smirk. "I want a shower now."

Sean groans -- can't help it -- but pulls himself together as fast as he can. "Yes, sir," he murmurs.

The smirk comes out then as Bill tugs on the leash, leading Sean to the showers. "Kneel down," he says, tying the leash to a hook near a shower cubicle. It's a good place for Sean; Bill can keep an eye on him as he showers, and of course Sean can see Bill as well.

Once more, he's not exactly showing off, but it's become obvious that Sean likes what he sees and there's nothing wrong with indulging a little appreciation.

And appreciate Sean does; he licks his lips, watches water flowing over Bill's body, and wants nothing more than to be at his feet, looking up, being allowed to lick his inner thighs, suck on his balls, slide his tongue up the length of Bill's cock before swallowing it down hard. He'd be squirming if the floor were more comfortable; as it is, he's biting his lips against the urge to beg.

"Grab a towel, boy," Bill says, untying the leash after leaving the shower. "Dry me off and tell me if you're any good at massages."

Sean gets a towel from the shelf and starts at Bill's neck and shoulders, working smoothly down his body. "I'm not an expert, sir, but I'm decent enough at it."

"Good enough," Bill says. "I like the feel of your hands on me. And of course, you can use your mouth as well."

"Thank you, sir," Sean says, glad he's not just groaning incoherently at the thought. Getting his hands and mouth all over Bill sounds like one hell of a reward. Or maybe it's just Bill's whim and it's what sounds good to him, too. Sean doesn't care. He's just thrilled with the idea and can't wait to get Bill onto a massage table.

Once they're in one of the slightly secluded massage rooms, Bill stretches out on the table. "Whatever you use, boy, make sure it's unscented. Some of that stronger stuff makes me sneeze." It's good to be here like this, good to be telling a new boy all the little things that Bill likes, all the ways he prefers to have things done.

Knowing Bill's preferences -- and the fact that they line up well with Sean's own -- is definitely good. He picks out a massage oil with an almond oil base and pumps a bit out onto his hands, warming it thoroughly before slicking it over Bill's back. _The only problem with giving massages,_ Sean thinks, _is how fucking horny I'm going to be by the end of it._ He's already hard; he'll ache like hell by the time he's through.

Sean's hands feel damn good on Bill's back, strong, steady and not at all tentative. And he doesn't seem to mind taking his time, unlike some boys who want to rush this part to get straight to the sex. Bill lets Sean find his own pace, sighing or murmuring happily when Sean finds the right combination of pressure and location.

Those sounds are more than worth having to be patient for. Sean's glad he's able to get a response out of Bill, glad Bill's obviously enjoying what he's doing for him. It's probably more important than it should be to be good at things, especially now, but Sean can't help it. He's glad he can make Bill happy.

By the time Sean's done with Bill's back, shoulders and arms, Bill's feeling perfect, loose and warm and more than ready to see where Sean's going to go next.

_Well, you did say I could use my tongue..._ Sean moves down to Bill's ass, working the muscles there, too, and bending his head down to lick gently up his cleft.

"Ahhhh," Bill sighs, spreading his legs to give Sean room to work. "Good boy."

Sean moans happily in response, licking again, and again after that, finally spreading Bill's buttocks and wriggling the tip of his tongue into him. _Fuck, love doing this._

_Damn, but he's good at this,_ Bill thinks as he shifts a bit to accommodate his erection. What Sean brings to this act, Bill realizes after a very enjoyable moment or two, is the same concentration and dedication he brings to just about everything Bill's done with him so far. It's way too soon to have Sean fuck him, in fact he may not even go there during this week, but Bill finds himself thinking that when he does, he'll have Sean rim him before hand.

It's a good thing Sean can't hear what Bill's thinking. He'd probably come on the spot. As it is, working his tongue into Bill's ass is making him growl, groan, want to sink himself into Bill's body and beg to be allowed to move, beg to even think about coming. All things considered, he'd probably rather be fucked hard these days, but being let inside someone -- there's practically nothing that can make him beg quite the way that can.

After another incredibly enjoyable moment or two, Bill is more than ready to fuck Sean. Twisting a little, he reaches back and runs his fingers through Sean's hair. "Enough," he says. "Get a condom, boy."

"Yes, sir." Sean doesn't have to go far; there are baskets full of the things near the massage tables. He gets one of the condoms out and wonders whether he ought to offer to apply it with his mouth; he thinks he remembers how to do that.

Bill's rolled over and now he grins up at Sean as he has a thought. "There should be a pair of clamps in my bag," he says. "Go get them after you get the rubber on me."

_Oh, fuck, yes._ "Yes, sir -- with my hands or with my mouth?" he asks, figuring there's no harm in trying.

"You can do that?" Bill asks. "No, of course you can. Go ahead and use your mouth."

Sean grins ear-to-ear and gets the condom out, slipping it into his mouth before climbing up on the table between Bill's legs. He puts a hand around the base of Bill's cock to hold it steady, then lowers his mouth, unrolling the condom after a moment's pause to figure out which way he needs to suck to make it work.

Once the condom's on, Bill rests his hand on Sean's head, holding him down for a moment. He doesn't actually want a blow job, but he likes the look of Sean like this, held in place by Bill's hand.

The latex feels smooth against Sean's tongue, and it's not a bad taste at all. He stays down, more than willing to let Bill hold him wherever he wants.

Finally, Bill tugs hard on Sean's hair. "Grab some lube, and then get up here, boy," he says. "I want you straddling me when you prep yourself."

Back to the basket for a lube packet, and Sean's not even bothering to hold in the eager look as he climbs up and straddles Bill's hips. _Oh God, this is going to feel so good..._ He pops the lube packet open and reaches between his legs, twisting his fingers in hard; he wants to make this a show, wants it to look good. _Slut._ He licks his lips, drives his fingers in deeper. _And what's wrong with that?_

"I think at some point I'll beat you hard and then make you fuck yourself on a dildo," Bill says. "You look good doing that, and you'll look even better doing it after you've been bruised up even more." It's one more thing in a long list of things Bill wants to do to Sean, and he realizes he needs to accept that he's going to ask Sean for a longer contract once this week is over.

"That sounds fucking brilliant, sir," Sean says, biting hard on his lower lip as he keeps working his fingers in and out of his ass. "Can't wait to have more bruises for you -- show off for you -- whatever you want, sir," Sean pants. "Please..."

"Please what?" Bill asks.

"Please let me have your cock, sir," Sean says, shoving his fingers in hard. "Please, want your cock so much, _please_."

The problem with this sort of scene is that while part of Bill would love to make Sean beg a lot more, another, more insistent part of him, really wants to fuck Sean now. "Lean down a little," he says, reaching for the clamps. When Sean obeys, Bill quickly clamps each nipple, giving a little tug on the chain when he's done. "Still want to get fucked, boy?"

"Fuck, yes, sir," Sean says, squirming against the tug on the clamps. It's that amazing electric sensation, the one that shoots down his spine, and part of it's the pain from the clamps and part of it's getting to perform for his dom. "Please, fuck, please, _so_ much, sir, please fuck me..."

"I like a boy who doesn't mind showing what a slut he is," Bill says, tugging on the chain again. "Go on then. Fuck yourself on my cock, boy. And don't go easy, either."

"Yes, sir." Sean grins and gets a good grip on Bill's cock, moving it into place and sinking down on it, taking it all in one hard shove. He throws his head back, groaning, and takes a second just to pant and adjust to the feel of Bill's cock inside him. "_Fuck_, you feel so good, sir..."

"So do you, boy," Bill says, tugging on the chain again. When Sean starts to move, Bill groans quietly and continues tugging on the chain. As always when he's got a new boy after any period of not having one, he wonders why in hell he waited this long to hook up with someone.

Trusting Bill to know what he wants -- _don't go easy_ \-- Sean starts moving, slamming down hard with every stroke and just about needing to grit his teeth against it. There's nothing like fucking yourself hard enough on someone that you know you're going to feel it for hours.

It's almost painful, but it's the kind of pain Bill can accept -- _the same pain you get when you fuck someone hard_ \-- and he does all he can to encourage Sean, tugging on the chain and letting himself make noise.

This isn't the first time Sean's wished for a cock ring while Bill's been fucking him, but it's the first time he's felt like he could get pushed over the edge without meaning to go. He bites his lower lip hard, keeps rocking down, and prays he's not going to go over without orders. _Fuck, feels so good. Too good. Oh, fuck me, I'm in trouble._

Biting his lip, Bill holds himself back; this is all too good for him to want to come just yet. "Fucking slut," he growls, looking up at Sean. "Look at you, fucking yourself on my cock and loving every minute of it."

"Yes, sir," Sean groans, shoving down again, "fucking slut for you, love it, sir, love fucking myself on your cock, _Christ_ you feel so fucking good, sir." He runs his hands through his hair, then laces his fingers behind his neck, wanting to get himself displayed a little better. The extra work it'll take to keep his balance might make it easier for him to hold back. Maybe.

"Fucking shameless too," Bill says with a broad grin. "Showing off like some whore." Sean looks good, but then Sean's almost always looks good. Still tugging on the chain, Bill brings his other hand up to stroke Sean's cock hard. While he's not trying to get Sean to come without permission, he can't help being curious as to where the line is.

Sean's whole body jerks, ass tightening up hard around Bill's cock, and he damn near loses his balance. "_Fuck!_ Sir, please, can't -- I -- oh, God, fuck, I'm so fucking close, sir, _please_!"

"No," Bill says, still working Sean's cock. "Not yet." He's not sure why this is suddenly turning into some kind of contest, but it's still enjoyable so he really doesn't care.

If it's a contest, Sean's just this side of losing. "Sir, I -- _please_," he begs, "please, _please_, need to come so badly, sir, _please_!"

"No," Bill says firmly. There's something good about Sean's look of desperation and Bill wonders how desperate Sean will get. _All right,_ he thinks, gritting his teeth a little. _Let's push you, boy._

Sean hasn't been told to stop, and between the way it feels slamming down on Bill's cock and that tug against his nipples -- "_fuck_" -- he can feel it a second before it happens, the way his balls tighten, the pulse at the base of his cock, and his eyes snap shut as he comes, unable to hold back any longer. "Oh, _fuck_, fuck, sir, I'm sorry--"

There isn't really any time for Bill to say anything before the way Sean feels -- _so fucking tight_ \-- around his cock sends Bill over the edge, his hand going tight on Sean's cock for a moment. He only lets go once he's finished, his other hand falling away from the chain at the same time.

"Well," he says, looking up at Sean. "Well."

Sean winces -- more due to his embarrassment than the tight grip on his cock, which was pretty damned painful after he came -- and looks down at Bill. "Fuck," he says again, softer this time, "I'm sorry, sir."

"I figured you would be," Bill says, calmly. "Off me, boy and get me cleaned up." He'll leave it up to Sean just how to do that. _Now, how do you punish a masochist? One you only have for a week._ After all, it's possible to use pain to punish even a masochist, but Bill doesn't want to leave Sean so banged up that he can't bear any pain for a few days. Nor does he want to punish Sean by not using him, another option that would be more appealing if they had more time together.

Sean nods and climbs off Bill, only wincing a little, and he quickly finds a damp towel he can use to clean Bill off. He's doing it more for speed than anything else, though he's gentle about it, and once the condom and towel are disposed of, he kneels down at the side of the table. _Fuck._ Bill doesn't seem angry, though, so Sean's more irritated himself than worried. _Not very impressive._

"Did that feel good, boy?" Bill asks. Before Sean can answer, he continues. "I hope it did, because you won't be coming for the next 48 hours or so."

"Yes, sir," Sean says immediately. And winces all over again; he's sure Bill's not going to make the next 48 hours easy on him. "I think my control's not what it used to be, sir," he murmurs. "I'm sorry."

"Understood," Bill says. "And you need to understand that I know that you're sorry, that we're both aware that you fucked up and that you'll be punished for it." He sits up, leans down and takes Sean's chin in his hand, tilting Sean's head up. "And that's the end of it unless you do it again. Do you understand?"

Sean focuses on Bill's eyes. _End of it._ "Yes, sir, I understand," he says.

"Good boy," Bill says. "Now get me my clothes so we can go and have lunch."

_-end-_


End file.
